


Gelid

by TK_DuVeraun



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Female Friendships, Gen, Mages Gonna Mage, enough BDE to bring your house down, mentioned Amell/Alistair, people are complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TK_DuVeraun/pseuds/TK_DuVeraun
Summary: Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan is no longer quite so sure that inviting Commander of the Grey Eirlys Amell to Skyhold was the right thing to do.Her information had best be worth it.





	Gelid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladymdc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/gifts).



> Written as part of a trade with the lovely [Ladymdc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc)! Please check out her really cool Noir AU, [Wandering In The Dark](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14509320)!

Skyhold hosted more than its share of nobles and dignitaries. Cradled in the mountains, the castle and its staff worked tirelessly to ensure visitors received a welcome worth their travel. But no guest was so fervently anticipated as the Hero of Ferelden, Commander of the Grey, Eirlys Amell. She saved all of Thedas with her defeat of the archdemon. What remained of the scaffolding in the great hall was covered with blue and silver banners. A room second only to Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan’s was prepared with thick curtains, plush rugs and a fire burning to heat the stone long before it was needed.

And Evelyn should know, Josephine had her inspect it and approve of the accommodations twice. Servants scurried around the hall only to jump when the great signal horn blew. Evelyn clenched the arm of her throne. She wasn’t allowed to greet the Hero of Ferelden. Nevermind that Wardens in Ferelden had been hunting the woman’s own husband, no, because Wardens seemed to be working with Corypheus, Evelyn had not choice but to issue the insult of not greeting her guest.

The slight didn’t go unnoticed.

Eirlys paused at the threshold; her eyes seemed to glitter, but from that distance it had to be a trick of the light. The guards on either side of the doors straightened in their armor until their backs were as straight and stiff as boards. Their breath fogged in the air and Evelyn thought that wasn’t real until Eirlys stepped inside the hall. The temperature dropped. She could feel it from the throne, but the sudden cold didn’t send shivers down the back of Evelyn’s spine as much as the frozen footprints in Eirlys’ wake. The butt of her staff crashed into the stone floor with thunderous echoes that drowned out the murmuring nobles. When Eirlys reached the foot of dias, a hush fell over the hall.

Only to be broken by Alistair’s sheepish apologies and promises that Eirlys wouldn’t  _ really _ freeze them all to death. Assuming they weren’t Orlesian. He nearly tripped over the herald, who was frozen by fear and cold. He made several ‘go on then’ gestures between the herald and the throne where Evelyn sat, but to no avail. He cleared his throat and stepped up behind his wife’s shoulder. “Right then, madam, erm, my lady-”

“Your worship,” the herald croaked.

“Your worship!” Alistair said, holding a finger up in triumph. “I present to you, Commander of the Grey Eirlys Amell.”

Evelyn stood and nodded. “Welcome, Commander Amell. We hope that you might assist us in the matter of Corypheus.”

Eirlys’ ice-blue eyes glittered in the mage lights, whispering invitation to the snow piled outside the castle. She didn’t nod. “I am here to do what must be done.”

“Then let us retire to the war room,” Evelyn said. She held her chin high and kept her tone light. No one would intimidate her in her own castle. She’d faced Corypheus and his false archdemon; Eirlys didn’t scare her. “Your partner as well, of course.” Evelyn didn’t wait for a response. She stepped down from her throne and walked at the perfect, noble gait Josephine had spent weeks reinforcing.

\----

A precarious stack of missives wobbled when Evelyn stood and stretched. Eirlys’ information had raised more questions than it answered and Evelyn intended to find out the truth. The ink was still drying on her morning notes. Even though she spent the night tossing and turning, her mind had pulled and twisted on the puzzle of the Wardens. Some research she could, and would, do herself, but the missives she’d written could be answered while she was in the field. She instructed a page to deliver her queries before sneaking down to the kitchens. Evelyn couldn’t afford to waste her mind on pleasantries when she had a war to fight. 

With several handpies in a linen napkin, Evelyn snuck through the castle to her private lounge. Josephine should be in. She stopped at the door and rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the ink-free space on her right palm. Conversation drifted out of the lounge, Leliana’s accented voice most clear.

“-remember how I once suggested to Morrigan a dress of dark red velvet?” Leliana asked.

A chuckle, then an unfamiliar voice. “To ward off the cold. Alistair laughed himself sick that night, thinking of it.”

“Leliana, you would not-”

“Come now, Morrigan,” Leliana interrupted. “She will only hear it from someone else, if not me.”

The sound of a chair moving carried out into the hall and Evelyn moved so she couldn’t been seen from the crack in the door.

“I will not be party to this foolishness,” Morrigan said.

“Come now, Morrigan, just let her finish,” the stranger said and suddenly Evelyn recognized them. Not by voice. This Eirlys sounded nothing like the frozen commander from the night before. No, it was simply that Morrigan and Leliana had only one point of connection: the Hero of Ferelden.

“She wore the most beautiful gown at the Winter Palace, Eirlys. You should have seen it. And the shoes!” Leliana crowed in delight.

Morrigan took her seat with a loud scrape of wood on stone. “You did not have a chance to see my shoes.”

“Oh, but my spies brought them to me later,” Leliana said. “Small gems, easily knocked loose. Held firm with magic, of course, you would not rely on flimsy settings. And the soles: soft as nug skin. Truly a wonderful pair.”

“Wait,” Eirlys said, “you’re saying that Morrigan wore the gown you designed during the Blight?” 

“The color and material were pure coincidence, I assure you,” Morrigan said. The ice in her voice was as cold as Eirlys’ magical display from the day before.

Leliana didn’t care. “It suited you, just as I said it would. You should sit for a portrait. I’m sure Josephine could find coin for one of the Inquisition’s more valuable advisors.”

“Do not think I will be soothed by your platitudes. I wore the gown at Empress Celene’s behest and it will take more than petty compliments for me to don it again.”

“Of course not,” Eirlys said. “No proper lady would wear the same gown twice.”

“We have a tailor on staff. Let me call-”

Magic and laughter crackled in equal measure. Evelyn was just leaning in to spy through the crack in the door when Alistair came down the hall. His arms were pull of wrapped bundles that smelled of bread, meat and cheese. He smiled at her and whispered, “I won’t tell them you’re here, but only if you go about your business.” 

He winked and shoved open the door with his elbow. “I’m back, love! I had a spat with the porter. He kept insisting we wouldn’t need an entire cheese wheel for four people.”


End file.
